


The Headmaster Ritual

by orphan_account



Category: Harry Potter - Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-05-01
Updated: 2005-05-01
Packaged: 2017-10-11 16:39:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/114452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Headmaster only takes on very special cases.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Headmaster Ritual

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Pornish Pixies' Fantasy Fest. Sixwhitelies asked for "Harry/Draco- In Dumbledore's office, more specifically on his desk whilst he is away on business. Kinks should include but not be limited to dirty talk, oral, light bondage and a creative use of lemondrops." **Warning**: Contains all of her requests plus lots and lots of role play.

The Headmaster put down his quill the moment he heard tentative footsteps on the spiral staircase. Folding his fingers under his chin, Harry Potter adopted the serene, slightly dotty expression he always used at these meetings; he found it was best to make the students doubt his faculties because it made them far more likely to confide in him, a trick he'd learnt from his predecessors. As though confirming that fact, he glanced up at the sleeping portraits surrounding his chambers.

Punishment was the least favourite part of his job, but Harry had to admit it was a necessary evil. Without order, there was chaos, and though a certain amount of chaos was to be expected in a school with so many hormones running rampant, it was important that he run a tight ship. These children desperately needed their instruction to continue as usual. The Headmaster brooked no arguments and troubled cases were dealt with on a one-to-one basis.

And this boy -- Harry nodded as his visitor finally stepped into his office -- was definitely a troubled case.

"Headmaster." Draco Malfoy's chin was lifted in a familiar expression of haughty indifference, but Harry could tell there was more to it than that. His arms were clasped tightly behind his back; his grey eyes darted about the room, regarding everything with suspicion; two spots of colour were visible high on his cheeks; and when Harry looked very carefully, he could tell that the boy was _trembling_. His heart went out to him, but the Headmaster knew that he simply couldn't let the little...indiscretion go.

"Thank you for coming, Mr Malfoy."

Draco sneered. "Why are you thanking me for that? Isn't that the reason I'm here in the first place?"

Harry didn't sigh or show his disappointment in any other way, though that was what he longed to do. Instead, he merely tilted his head to one side and said, "Well, I'm not sure. Why do you think you're here?"

"Obviously because Professor Snape caught me on my knees in the boys' lavatory sucking _cock_." Draco put much emphasis on the hard consonant sounds at the beginning and end of the word, drawing it out and making it dirtier, filthier than it already was; it took every ounce of self-control for Harry to keep his shock off his face -- not to mention his arousal. Those words coming out of that mouth made Harry simultaneously want to slap him for his insolence and throw him over the desk to fuck him silly; either way, the Headmaster wanted this student to know exactly who was in charge here.

"It wasn't so much the _act_, Draco. I'm not unsympathetic to the feelings people your age might have and how those things have a way of spiralling out of control, but from what your Head of House tells me, this wasn't an isolated incident. In fact, drawing conclusions from the few facts Professor Snape gave me, it's very possible you had a line out the door and were charging admission for a Sickle."

Draco's jaw hung open at the insinuation, but he recovered quickly enough. "Professor, I'm worth at least a Galleon, am I not?"

"It's a shame that you'd have to weigh it in gold at all." Harry rose from his seat and walked around his desk, standing in front of Draco with his arms crossed. The boy certainly _was_ growing; Harry noted that Mr Malfoy was nearly his height, though that didn't -- couldn't -- diminish his authority here. "There are so many more important ways to measure a man's worth."

At that, Draco cracked a smile; a coy, dangerous look that made Harry shiver inwardly, though he still refused to change his expression. "And did you plan on measuring my...worth, _Headmaster_?"

Harry raised his eyebrows. "I only plan on making sure you know that your professors and I enforce the rules only for your protection, and that you remember exactly who is the authority here." Harry's mouth was set in a straight line, and it wasn't until he noted the flash of fear in Draco's eyes that he relaxed his features again, turning to grab a jar off his desk. "Sherbet lemon?" he asked pleasantly.

Draco waited a beat and nodded, perhaps seeing it was best for him to agree. With a hand that only shook a little, he reached into the jar and took a few. Harry smiled encouragingly as Draco popped the sweets into his mouth, watching as his mouth pursed first with the sour flavour, then the fizz that followed. Then as the last of them melted, Draco's pupils suddenly dilated, and he let out a loud, drawn-out moan. He clamped one hand over his mouth and shot Harry a sharp look.

"Is something wrong, Draco?"

"What did you do to these?" Draco asked, sounding alarmed.

"Oh, it's nothing," Harry said, putting the jar back in its place. "Only a simple charm that links us together, compelling you to do whatever I ask."

"That's-- that's Dark Magic! That's like the Imperius Curse!" Harry noticed that Draco somehow managed looking outraged and impressed all at once.

"Not quite. This is more the kind of relationship master and servant would have; pleasing me will please you, though if I were to ask you to do something you _truly_ found abhorrent, you would be able to refuse."

Draco's eyes narrowed. "Pot-- excuse me, _Headmaster_, how long does this compulsion last?"

Harry smiled and reached up to tuck a lock of hair behind Draco's ear; the boy neither flinched nor moved away. "As soon as you feel you've completed your job and done it well, the spell will end."

"And what would you have me do? Scrub every toilet in the castle, serve a year's worth of detentions with Filch, spend my days wrangling in whatever that great oaf of a caretaker has adopted for a pet?" Draco sneered again, gesturing at the Headmaster's shelves. "Or maybe I should dust your billions of half-broken knickknacks while prancing around in a tea towel?"

"Not exactly what I had in mind, though that last one has merit," Harry replied with a leer. "I'm here to instil in you a sense of...pride in yourself."

"How fucking noble, _sir_."

Harry shrugged, leaning back against his desk. "It is what it is. Take off your robes."

Draco's hands immediately flew to the clasps nearest his throat, though he stopped any further action with what looked like a lot of effort.

"Don't fight it, Draco. Remember -- if you didn't want it, you wouldn't do it."

"Fuck you."

"That's the general idea."

The blush on Draco's cheeks didn't escape Harry's notice, nor the way the boy's tongue darted out to wet dry lips. Slender fingers deftly pulled open the fastenings, while his feet scrabbled to push off his shoes. He shrugged the robe from his shoulders and let it fall to the floor, revealing that he wore nothing but pants and socks underneath.

Harry hissed through his teeth and immediately pushed off the edge of the desk again, walking a tight semi-circle around his charge and mentally cataloguing the sharp angles of Draco's elbows and shoulders, the pale landscape of skin dotted here and there with a mole or nearly undetectable scar. When he reached Draco's back, Harry took a step forward and greedily ran one hand from the nape of the boy's neck to the base of his spine, leaning in to whisper, "You're beautiful, you know."

"I know that already," Draco replied, though his voice came out less steadily than he probably would have liked.

Harry shook his head, even though he knew Draco couldn't see. "No. You don't -- that's the problem. I'm going to worship your body and show you exactly why sucking _cock_ in a bathroom is so beneath you. When I'm through here, you'll know that you're _better_ than that and that you're _mine_."

"I belong to no one."

"So you say. Take off your pants."

Draco was obeying Harry practically before he could even comprehend the words, underpants ending up around his ankles with his robe. The sight of Draco bent over was almost more than Harry could bear, at least until Draco looked over his shoulder, arse still high in the air, and throatily asked, "Socks, too?"

"N-- no," Harry stammered, trying to keep some of his circulation _above_ his shoulders. After a moment he composed himself and smiled. "Those can stay."

"All right." Draco perched on the edge of the desk as Harry had a moment before, a rather insistent-looking erection jutting out from his body.

Harry immediately dropped to his knees and began to crawl, never taking his eyes off Draco's face. "So beautiful," he breathed, caressing Draco's wool-covered ankle, then his calf, sliding his hand behind his knee and up his thigh, combing fingers through the light dusting of blond hair as he straightened his spine again.

Draco whimpered and clutched the desk as Harry licked the inside of his thigh and nuzzled the place where Draco's leg met his sac. "Oh god. This is so wrong."

Pulling back and gazing up, Harry tilted his head to one side. "If it was, you wouldn't let me do this." Harry dragged his tongue around Draco's balls, then pressed the flat against the underside of Draco's cock.

"N--no, I...not this," Draco said, canting his hips forward as Harry sucked the tip into his mouth, wrapping one hand around the base. "Everything else...who you are...and who I am...and we're in the h-- _your_ office on your desk, and...and it's-- ohgod_yes_."

Harry relaxed his throat, taking Draco as far as he could, sucking at a leisurely pace. He could hear the creak of wood underneath Draco's fingers and the ragged breathing punctuated with low moans. Looking up, he found Draco's face screwed up, eyes shut tight and mouth open on a pant; his entire face was bright pink and a shock of blond hair had fallen forward, plastered to his forehead by the sweat that was breaking out all over his body. Harry tightened his grip and sped up, flicking his tongue against the head with every up pass.

Then, just as one of Draco's hands crept to the back of Harry's head, his hips thrusting up to meet each movement, Harry suddenly stopped sucking. Slowly, he licked Draco's shaft, tiny little licks that would drive anyone to begging, pleased by the frustrated groan that fell from the boy's mouth.

"I think you like who I am," he said, tonguing the divot separating head and shaft. "And I know you like where we are and what we're doing. There's nothing wrong with this, is there?"

"Just that you stopped," Draco retorted, squirming as Harry reached up, running his hands over his chest and stomach.

Harry dropped his hands and scuttled back again, licking his lips. "We've just begun, Draco. Face the desk, bend over, and grab the other side."

Draco's eyes widened almost comically a split-second before he whirled around and folded himself over the paper-and-gadget-covered desk, stretching his arms out in front of him and curling his fingers around the far edge. Without moving from his spot, Harry whipped out his wand and spoke, causing ropes to seemingly rise from the desk, securing Draco's wrists to the surface.

"What the fuh--_nngh, Har-- Headmaster!_"

Any protest Draco was about to make was cut off as Harry spread Draco's cheeks apart, dragging his tongue along the length of his crease. He could feel Draco's muscles tense under his hands as he licked -- languorous swirls of his tongue, quick jabs that just barely pushed past the pink pucker, up to the boy's tailbone, then slowly down again to press hard against his perineum. Up and away from Harry, Draco made constant noise, sounds that freely crossed the barriers between moans, groans, whimpers, and whines into territory that could only be called incoherency.

"_Yes_," Draco shouted, hips pushing back against Harry's questing tongue, seeking more, greater contact. Not that Harry wasn't willing to oblige; the Headmaster pressed his lips against Draco's hole, tongue circling the nerve-sensitive skin there as one hand drifted from the globe of Draco's arse to apply feather-light touch to his balls, stroking and squeezing at a such a maddening pace that Draco's incoherent noise soon became incoherent sobs.

Harry made out one word, though: "_Please_."

"Please what?" asked Harry throatily, moving away almost reluctantly. His fingers moved from Draco's sac to trace the wrinkled skin surrounding the spit-slick hole, the tips of two fingers just barely breaching the boy's entrance.

Draco let out a broken moan, pushing backward again, his toes rising off the ground. "Please-- _please_...do whatever you think I need. I want to please you...fuck me, Headmaster. _Please_."

"What if fucking you isn't what I need?" asked Harry, though his voice was little more than a rough whisper, and he was already picking his wand up from the floor and getting to his feet. "What if I think I should leave you like this, spread-eagled on my desk, begging for me?"

At that, Draco's whole body tensed up, but only for a moment before it relaxed. The boy managed to look over his shoulder again, even with the bindings, even though his cock had to be painfully hard and pushing up against the desk, and Harry was once again lost, reminded of the coy look Draco had shot him as he folded himself in two to pull off his pants. "Because, sir," Draco said plaintively, "that's not what I deserve."

"And what do you deserve?" Damn. There was that shaky-rough whisper again.

"I deserve your cock, sir. Deserve it inside me, filling me, making me scream; I deserve it because it will please you."

"He can be taught," Harry muttered mostly to himself, though he saw Draco smirk before he faced forward again.

Harry hastily tugged off his robes, wanting to feel hot skin against his and nearly fell forward in the rush to pull off his pants, shoes, and socks. He was flush with anticipation, nearly giddy with the prospect of finishing what he started, and he had to reel himself in again; it was important that he remember that he was Headmaster of this school and this was an exercise in discipline, not some clandestine schoolboy tryst. Draco's effect on him was nearly intoxicating.

Shaking his head to clear the cobwebs, Harry pointed his wand at one of his shelves and summoned a jar he'd placed there, the ornate container slapping into his palm. He tossed his wand away to open the jar, tilting it over Draco's body and watching as clear oil spilt over the boy's hole, still shining and wet from Harry's tongue. Draco gasped as the cool, slick liquid hit his skin, hands grabbing onto the edge of Harry's desk.

Harry pressed his erection against Draco's crease, letting out a loud, reverberating moan as he felt hot skin finally, finally touching him.

"How do you want this?" Harry asked, now pouring the oil directly onto his aching cock and gasping just as Draco had a moment earlier, rocking his hips and resisting the urge to shove himself into that tight entrance. "Slow, careful preparation, bringing you to the edge over and over --"

Draco whimpered, pushing back against Harry. "You've done that already. Fuck me hard and fuck me _now_. I know that's what you need, too; I can _feel_ it."

Of course, the boy was absolutely right. Harry shivered and threw the jar aside, not caring or noticing that it had tipped over and was staining the scattered papers on his desk. He squeezed Draco's arse with one hand -- earning another needy gasp -- and braced his other against the small of Draco's back as he pulled his hips back, easing into that tight hole. They both let out choked groans (though Harry was embarrassed to admit that his was rather louder) as the head of Harry's cock pushed past the initial resistance and Draco's arse clenched hard around the top of his shaft. No longer willing to wait, Harry's hips snapped forward and he fell forward, burying himself deep within Draco's body.

"Oh _god_," Draco gritted out, pushing back, even though Harry didn't think he could press in any deeper. "Move, H...Headmaster. Touch me. _Something_. Please!"

Harry nodded, forgetting that Draco couldn't see and started to move, sliding, thrusting, _fucking_, fast, hard, just the way his student had asked. The hand on Draco's arse was digging relentlessly, leaving dark pink marks and turning his own knuckles stark white. The other hand moved around to the front of Draco's body and found his heated prick; the poor boy must have been in agony, having only the harsh wood of the desk to offer any relief.

Closing his fingers around the shaft, Harry hissed, "You don't come until I do," and began to jerk his hand nearly in time with his hips, surrounding himself with throbbing heat as he drew his thumb through the smear of precome against the head of Draco's cock, pulling foreskin back and forth over sensitive skin, and moaning in near-triumph as Draco's trembling became even more pronounced and the boy raggedly said, "Y-- yes, sir."

"You are so good, so _tight_, Draco, and I know you've learnt your lesson," Harry babbled, speeding up as his balls drew up and white-hot pleasure radiated from his groin out to his extremities. "You are better than _all_ of them, don't you forget it, I n--_need_ you to re-- remember that."

Harry was close now. It wouldn't take much to set him off, though he was riding the high, wanting to stay right at the edge as long as he could. He twisted his fist around Draco and the boy forced out another frantic sob, pushing back against Harry's cock and forward into his hand, struggling against his restraints and searching for more contact, though Harry knew he was desperately trying not to come. Harry then made the mistake of looking down, seeing Draco high up on his toes, feet nearly clear off the ground, grey socks bunched loosely around his ankles, and that was Harry's undoing.

"_God_. I'm going to-- Draco, _come_ for me."

Draco let out a long, mournful wail and shouted Harry's name, finally giving up the game, but Harry didn't care, _couldn't_ care because he could feel wetness against his fingers, cock pulsing under his fist, arse throbbing around him, pulling, _pushing_ him. Harry shuddered, a twist of spine, skin too tight, too hot for his body as he unravelled, coming and coming until he felt like all of him was being sucked through the head of his cock.

After a moment of trying to get his breathing under control again, Harry slowly opened his eyes, not even realising he'd shut them, and also not quite sure how he'd ended up with his chest plastered against Draco's back.

"Potter, get off of me," Draco grunted, squirming underneath him. "You're heavy."

"Mmph," mumbled Harry into Draco's spine, though he shakily managed to get his palms flat against the desk and pushed himself up again. "S'pose the spell's broken, then?" Wincing, he grabbed the base of his cock and eased himself out of Draco's body, collapsing backward into the nearest chair. Draco didn't move.

"The nasty little hex on the sherbet lemons, yes, though I'm still tied to this desk." Draco sounded disgruntled, though Harry knew he didn't mean it.

"I could just leave you like that."

Draco's foot kicked backward, though he was nowhere near enough to reach Harry. "Bastard. You wouldn't dare."

Harry paused, pretending to give it some thought. "Nah," he finally agreed, bending to grab his discarded wand. "_Finite Incantatum_." The ropes instantly disappeared in a puff of smoke. "You're free, Mr Malfoy. Now c'mere and sit in Professor Potter's lap."

"Sadist," Draco mumbled, though he slowly pulled himself off the desk and stumbled over to Harry to plop down in his lap. "You kill one little Dark Lord and suddenly you have all the time in the world to think up kinky sex games."

"Just one of the perks of saving the world is knowing the password to Dumbledore's office, and also when he's going to be out of the castle. It's certainly better than worrying about who's going to die next or if some stuck-up blond spy who's secretly working for the side of good is about to anger the wrong people." He nuzzled Draco's throat, licking along the length of his jaw. "Give your Headmaster a kiss."

Draco batted him away. "Ew, no, Potter! I know full well where your mouth has been." He stretched out his arm and grabbed a handful of sherbet lemons from Dumbledore's desk. "Open up."

"No, wait, those are...mphhll!" Harry's eyes widened and he moaned so loudly that an outside observer never would have guessed he'd come so hard he'd seen stars just a couple of minutes ago.

Smiling wickedly, Draco said, "Turnabout is fair play. I think you should give _me_ a kiss."

Harry found himself unwilling to disobey, not that he wanted to. He wrapped his arms around Draco's waist and tilted his head up, capturing Draco's lips and sliding his now-lemon-flavoured tongue inside to explore the one it met there. He was feeling nearly ready for round two, wondering what Draco would do to _him_, the thought making him whimper into Draco's mouth. He stopped abruptly, though, cut off when the spiral staircase started to whir.

Breaking away, Harry shot Draco a panicked look, but Draco was looking at a point beyond him, grinning widely.

"Hello, Headmaster!" he exclaimed with a merry wave, kicking his feet. "Did you enjoy your trip?"


End file.
